


Best Day he'd never Remember

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Estranged Percy, Gen, Mentions of the Toad, Second Wizarding War era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The coup has happened and Percy is a loyal bureaucrat in the Ministry, working for Undersecretary Umbridge. His first task for the new regime? Investigating and verifying the heritage of all questionable employees with St. Mungo’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Day he'd never Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Interhouse Fest on LJ.

* * *

Percy Weasley stepped through the doors of his office exactly seven minutes before his shift started. He sat down in the leather chair behind his enormous desk and scanned the various parchment in his inbox.

It really was unfortunate that Dolores Umbridge took a liking to him while she worked for former Minister Fudge and as a deputy for former Minister Scrimgeour. His efficiency as well as his dogged work ethic aided his promotion to her junior deputy. He was protected, having walked away from his family before Scrimgeour came to power almost two years prior. The lack of contact with them, along with being insulated as a through, efficient bureaucrat in the Ministry kept the whispers against him to a minimum.

The new rules and regulations regarding Muggleborns and those of questionable parentage came through last week and he was at a loss on how to cope with it. So, in good bureaucrat fashion, he’d follow the rules, to the letter, without comment. 

His task, starting this morning, was registering those who weren’t on the Sacred 28 but had their heritage verified in Ministry documents. His job and task was to interview them, and if any of the people in his office were dodgy, shady, or even remotely hinky, he was to forward their file to the Undersecretary for a formal investigation. 

It was dead boring work but also, according to the new regulations handed down by fiat by Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, _vital for the cleansing and purification of our way of life._

Percy kept his eyes on his list of appointments and kept his head down. He couldn’t ask his father for help, not after turning his back on the family years ago. Their harsh words the last time he came home, at the behest of Minister Scrimgeour, still soured him. _Traitor,_ Ginny hissed at him. _Sodding twit,_ Fred scowled before throwing a spoonful of turnips at him. Ron, the brother he wanted to protect from Harry, shoved a finger into his chest and told him graphically where he could stick his wand and what he could do with it. 

His first documentation appointment was in five minutes. The name didn’t ring any bells to him. 

_Name:_ Audrey Reeves  
_Profession:_ Mind Healer, St. Mungo’s  
_Heritage:_ Half-blood (Father Pureblood, English; Mother Half-blood, English/Hong Kong Chinese. Heritage - questionable, due to Mother’s Non-English background)  
_Residence:_ Bushey, London, UK  
_Length of residence:_ two years; previously 18 years.  
_Education:_ Hogwarts, Hufflepuff house; Lions Park (Hong Kong – not accredited.)  
_Honors:_ Prefect, Quidditch Captain, Class of 1990

A grunt in front of him startled him out of reading her information. He could only guess this was Healer Reeves in front of him yet he couldn’t find the words to speak up. She appeared tall, possibly as tall as he was, and quite reserved except for her smile. Her lime green robes and dark wool overcloak gave her away. 

“Mister Weasley, I am Healer Reeves. I believe I have an 8am appointment with you. I received an owl a week prior that I needed to come in and present my papers to continue my employment contract at St. Mungo’s?” 

“Ugh, ‘ello,” he stuttered out trying to sound slightly educated in her presence and failing miserably. “Yes, you do have an appointment with me regarding your paperwork. I do apologize,” He stood up from his chair and held a hand out. She shook it delicately, but with a hint of strength under it. She was tall - maybe an inch taller than him - but she also held his eyes, something that Penelope had trouble doing. 

“Please, be seated.” He waited for her to settle into the leather chair for guests and shuffled the paperwork on his desk. “In your correspondence, we asked that you bring in certain documents for verification, in an effort to keep your Healer’s license as well as employment contract with St. Mungo’s. I do apologize for such an inconvenience but the new regulations must be met with alacrity for the St. Mungo’s staff first before we can go forward with others. 

She leaned over the side of her chair and brought the leather satchel to her lap and pulled out a thick file filled with parchment. “I brought everything you asked of me, just so we can expedite this interview. I have to be at the Hospital by 9am for my workday to start. I have patients that cannot wait for petty interviews concerning my qualifications.” Her face appeared stoic, passive almost, but the sting in her voice betrayed her irritation. She handed over the documents before crossing her arms on her lap. “Do you need anything else this morning from me? I am terribly busy, especially today.” 

Percy opened the folder and saw the meticulous script flowing for him. “It won’t take but an additional ten minutes, if all of your paperwork is here and in order.” He brought the first document to his myopic eyes and scanned it, noting birth certificates as well as enrollment dates at Hogwarts and her acceptance into Lion’s Park Wizard academy. 

“Out of curiosity, why did you attend a second institution in Hong Kong? Your paperwork on your employment contract says you were offered a position in Healer training at St. Mungo’s when you graduated from Hogwarts in 1990. But you traveled to Hong Kong for your Healer training, only doing a residency with St. Mungo’s. Why was that?” 

Percy looked over the top of the parchment and saw Healer Reeves smiling. Her brown eyes were dark, unlike his Mum and sister’s eyes, yet there was a subtle difference he couldn’t pinpoint. Was sit the color of them, like the fine chocolate from Honeyduke’s or was it the shape, with the shape of almonds? Either way, they were enticing. 

“If you’re asking me, without asking me, why I went abroad for my training, it’s because I was sick of England and wanted to travel some, as well as spend time with my grandmother. I resided with her while I spent many hours learning my heritage from her, when my nose wasn’t in my books and potions. I traveled across China, with my grandmother, for a month before starting Lion’s Park. I don’t regret my choices or the experiences I shared with my grandmother. 

“She was educated in Eastern medicine, in herbs and potions that aren’t normally used in the West. I learned a lifetime of medicine from her, including things which are considered heretical by my employer. But my knowledge and training there, from my Grandmother as well as Lions Park Academy has benefited Wizarding England already. My knowledge of Chinese medicine as well as my training with respected Mind Healers of Eastern Medicine is why I am certified for St. Mungo’s. Once I was deemed skilled, which took an additional two years of practical applications of training and testing, I returned to England to accept a position at St. Mungo’s. I’ve been on staff with them for two years now.” 

Percy looked through the rest of the parchment in front of him and kept the smile he felt to himself. “Perhaps you knew my older brothers? Bill and Charlie Weasley?” 

“I flew against Charlie, more than once. Tosser tried to knock me off my broom a couple of times while chasing the snitch. I succeeded once, distracting him during the chase for the snitch. It gave us a chance before he caught it an hour later.” 

“He can be rough, at times,” Percy replied quietly. He pulled the last document from her file and looked it over. “Is this your Mum?” He held up a photograph of a beautiful woman, wearing robes that weren’t English cut. 

“That’s her. She’s from one of the well-respected families in Hong Kong, where my father met her when he was on assignment for the UK Ministry of Magic. She claims he enchanted her but he disputes it. He says he was out at a market, purchasing vegetables from a stall when she tried to take a bunch of bok choy and he let her have it.” 

“That is most fascinating, Healer Reeves. I would love to know more, but you have other patients who are your priority.” Percy stood up from his seat and held his hand out to her. “I will have this replicated for our records then sent over to you tomorrow. From everything in your files, your papers seem to be in order.” 

“Thank you for that, Mr. Weasley.” 

“Shall I walk you out?” 

“Thank you, but no. I know my way around the Ministry. But I appreciate your offer.” 

Percy stood from his seat and watched Healer Reeves comport herself before departing. 

“If you aren’t busy later, Mr. Weasley, I take tea in the St. Mungo’s canteen at half six. I will be on shift there for the next two days.” 

“I would like that.” He smiled and held his hand out to her. “Half six, you say?” 

“That’s right. We can talk further later.” 

“Healer Reeves, I bid you good day.” 

“And the same to you, Mr. Weasley.” 

He stood at his desk, watching her depart. She stopped in the doorway and looked over her shoulder at him. “Good day, Mr. Weasley.” She walked out of his office, leaving him standing at his desk and smiling softly. 

* * *

“Please state your name and your emergency, sir.” 

Percy finished scrawling his information on the clipboard. “Percy Weasley. I have a nasty cut on my arm and I think it’s been infected. I need to see a healer to tend to it.” He picked up the clipboard with a stack of parchment attached. 

“You don’t need to fill those out, Mr. Weasley. All of our Healers are currently occupied,” the secretary spoke loudly before dropping to a whisper, “but the first available Healer is yours. Your heritage and status at the Ministry guarantee your priority treatment. Please feel free to ignore the others in the waiting room.” 

Percy departed the window, holding the flannel on his arm, hoping he wasn’t dripping anything gross on the ground. It stung, days later, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit how he received it. His wand slipping in his hand while shaving seemed like the best answer to his problem and it would keep down any Healer questions that would send notice to the Undersecretary at the Ministry. Who knew, really, who was working as informants for the Aurors nowadays? He couldn’t take that chance - not if he wanted to keep out of Azkaban. 

He only knew that the Aurors weren’t bringing in so many questionable people to the Ministry in the last few months. Fewer people were coming through the Floos at the Ministry these last few weeks. Yet whispers, closely held to ears, mentioned disappearances that didn’t make sense. 

But he had a job to do and he would do it until it killed him. 

He stepped inside the waiting room and froze for a moment before finding a seat in a special section marked Purebloods only. Just the phrase roiled his stomach into more knots. There were seats for him, and a cup of tea appeared the moment he sat down, just the right temperature along with a current copy of the Daily Prophet. 

The distinctions between his plight and the rest in the room were revolting. The rest of the waiting room was packed to capacity, and more. Various people were sitting in chairs, with some asleep and even more crying in the darker corners. Echoes of voices drifted over to his comfortable seat. “They’ll see us shortly,” one woman said quietly to her crying child, looking at her watch in impatience. 

“It’s been 12 hours, Daddy. Why are we still out here?” a small young man, maybe 10 years old at the most, asked his father. 

“They’ll see us shortly. I know they will. They’ve never turned me away before.” 

Percy turned his head back towards the front, biting his lips in grief. He knew St. Mungo’s wasn’t busy. He saw the reports that crossed his desk daily, from Muggleborns trying to receive medical care and being whisked away from treatment rooms, to be never seen again. He received reports daily that mentioned halfbloods with questionable parentage being brought for interrogation, with most going to Azkaban. A few who challenged the Undersecretary in open court were convicted to a Dementor’s Kiss on the spot. 

The current administration had gone completely mental yet he had to keep quiet and keep working. It was the only way he could finish his tasks. 

But here he sat, comfortable and shoved to the front of the queue since his name was accepted as a Pureblood and he was a bureaucrat in good standing with the Ministry. Only a corrupt society would think him, who had turned his back on his family to stand with the corruption, as worthy. 

The tea and toast he had earlier threatened to reappear. 

“Weasley? Percy Weasley. Please come back with me.” He stood up, fighting the temptation to see the anguish on the faces who were being kept in the rooms while in pain or with illness. They passed the double doors, making their way back to a treatment. 

He stopped and looked over his shoulder but the windows were opaque. 

“Don’t mind them in there, Mr. Weasley. They are tainted halfbloods who have their own healers to treat them.” 

“How many are on staff for them?” He fought to keep his voice neutral and disinterested. 

“Two, actually, for the entire hospital. They will get seen to at some point. It might be a day or two but they will be treated.” 

“But you brought me back within five minutes. How is that?” 

“Oh, that. We have a half a dozen Pureblood Healers on staff at any given time. Worthy patients are always given priority, even if it’s a simple cold. We can’t let those who are working diligently to secure our way of life suffer any longer than necessary. Come. We have a Healer ready to see to your needs as well as a trained Medi-Witch to see to your comfort while the Healer works.” 

Percy walked into the treatment room and saw the table with various potions laid out. “Already?” He sat down on the small gurney and lifted his feet up. His arm itched but he’d be remiss to scratch it and break open the bindings on it. 

“Why yes. We like to make sure that you’re taken care of quickly, so you can return to your life with little hindrance.” 

The first Medi-witch departed, leaving Percy in the very sterile room. It was comfortable, considering it was February in London. He maneuvered his arm out of his robes and shrugged off his jacket. 

“I’m Audrey, and will be tending your wounds. Please take off your shirt so I can see your injury.” 

Percy did as he was asked and only after he was down to his vest did he see the medi-witch standing before him. “You? Didn’t I interview you six months ago in my office?” His mind leaped out, trying to remember her last name and actual occupation. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you say that you were a Mind Healer?” 

She was busy with her clipboard, documenting the potions and amounts in the vials. “Yes, I am, and yes I did. But the Hospital deemed that since I wasn’t a Pureblood, they wouldn’t allow me to be a Healer. So, they said I could either be a medi-witch, with the pay of such, or I would be out on the street with no chance of employment. So I took what was offered.” She never looked up from her clipboard but prepared all the necessary items on the tray. 

The door opened and a lime-clad Healer entered. “Ah. Mr. Weasley. Sorry to see you on these terms. I’m Healer Greengrass. I was informed that you have an infected cut on your arm that hasn’t responded to the treatments you’ve used? Here. Let me see what we have here.” 

The Healer banished the soiled dressings from his arm and sniffed once. “My, this is infected. It looks terrible. How long has it been this way?” 

“It was fine 2 days ago, when I got it. But now it hurts a bit and I considered missing work today but thought better of it.” The little lie only stung a touch. 

“Let’s take a closer look, shall we?” The Healer waved his wand over the nasty mess on his arm. Immediately, he bit his lip but kept prodding it with the tip of the wand. The skin hissed some until the Healer saw what was etched into the skin. 

“Audrey, please go to the stores and get me another blood replenishing potion, a box of ten gauze pads, size 4 please, and a calming draught. Mr. Weasley will need it for me to treat him correctly. Also, see if we have some Essence of Murtlap in our stores, already made up. If not, we’ll make do without it.” 

“Yes, sir,” Audrey replied before hustling out of the room. 

“Is all that for a shaving injury, Healer Greengrass?” 

“This isn’t a shaving with your wand injury, is it?” 

Percy stiffened under the older man’s comments but kept his voice neutral. “No but it’s also all that I can admit to without causing problems at work. So, for your records, it will stipulate that it’s a shaving injury, with my wand, like good Pureblood Wizards use, and you’ll leave it at that. Neither one of us wants a hassle from others who are in positions of authority, do we?” 

“Fair point, Mr. Weasley. My notes will stipulate it’s a shaving injury.” 

“And once I’m treated, I will request a very mild memory charm to erase my memories of the evidence. Is that correct protocol? I can’t speak ill of my supervisors, can I?” 

“I will arrange that. I’ll have the medi-witch see to it.” 

The healer put the tip of his wand back towards the cursive script on Percy’s arm, feeling the skin stitching together. Percy hissed in pain. 

“Then we’ll wait for any further treatment, considering how sensitive your skin is.” 

“That is probably prudent,” he grunted, biting down on the fire in his arm. 

“Which department do you work for? You never mentioned that information.” 

“I work for Minister Umbridge. I am the Deputy Undersecretary.” 

“Ah. Now I understand. Once Audrey returns, I’ll have her set that Memory Charm.” 

A couple of minutes passed and Audrey returned, including a huge bowl with her. “I have those things for you, sir. The potioneer had a batch brewing and said I could take this since we have a Pureblood to treat.” 

The Healer picked up the first vial, with the purple potion in it. “Please take this now. It’s a calming draught. It will help while I work on cleaning your shaving mishap and healing the wound.” 

Percy knocked back the potion and grimaced. “Never tastes any better, I reckon.” 

“Very good. Mr. Weasley will also need a particular charm applied once we are finished with him so he can be sent on his way.” The Healer looked at the medi-witch without specification. 

“Ah, yes sir. Very good, sir. I shall once you’ve completed his treatment.” She saw the blood crusted scar on his arm, in fine script, etched into the underside of his forearm. She hissed, knowing what caused that particular injury along with the fiendishness required to wield it. 

Healer Greengrass immersed the arm in Essence of Murtlap, lifting the arm just barely out of the bowl to begin the tedious process of removing the scarring. He worked quickly, making smooth strokes while healing the scar on his arm. Each letter was erased, leaving angry red marks. 

Audrey stood before Percy and wielded magic to keep him calm while the Healer worked on his injury. She also cast cooling charms on the skin of the arm, following the Healer’s instructions, while assisting as needed. 

Healer Greengrass finished the last mark. “Finally! Now once this is completely healed up, do not scar it again. Repeated injury in this location will only reverse what I just did and leave you with permanent injury.” The Healer finished with him and handed over three potion bottles. “The first one is essence of Murtlap. That is to be used twice a day until the skin returns to normal. The second is a blood replenishing potion, to help you fight off any residual issues from your shaving injury. And the last is a nerve regeneration potion, so you won’t have any lingering issues with your arm.” 

“Thank you, to both of you.” 

The Healer finished writing on his slip of parchment and departed without comment. Medi-witch Audrey remained, pulling her wand from her apron. “Now Mr. Weasley, before I apply this particular charm, is there anything else you want to say. Once I apply it, everything for the last hour will be completely gone, at least from your memories.” 

“I am sorry I have to ask this of you. It seems that we meet under the worst of circumstances. I’ve wanted to get to know you better but it wasn’t meant to be today, or for the time being.” 

Audrey smiled demurely. “As long as this regime is in effect, you would be remiss to be seen with me. I don’t agree with what is happening, but you have your reputation to protect.” She lifted her wand and pointed it at his head. 

“Wait! Am I wrong for wanting to continue what we have, even if I don’t remember it? I’ve not met another woman who fascinates me like you do. I’d promise that we’ll get through this, even if I won’t remember it.” 

Audrey stopped his worrisome discussion. “And you’d be a fool to make that promise, considering the circumstances. I cannot let you do that. And it would be torture on me for you to do so. We might not survive this regime, especially with the secrets I’m bound to keep with my Medi-witch’s oath.” She took his hand instead and kissed it on the back. “How about I leave a thought with you, inside the charm, for you to look me up once the circumstances change?” 

He shrunk slightly under her gaze. “Will they change?” 

“Nothing lasts forever, Percy Weasley. We only think so if we don’t live long enough.” She put the tip of the wand on his temple and silently recited the incantation. His eyes went opaque for a moment, losing the memories of the last hour. Audrey leaned in and whispered in his ear for a moment before pulling back. 

Ever so slowly, his eyes came into focus and saw a medi-witch standing at the bedside, working on the parchment. She never turned around to face him. “Well, Mr. Weasley, now that you’re finished, you’re free to go to work. Please be careful shaving next time. A wand slip is a painful injury.” 

She departed with the tray of potions, leaving him with three bottles and written instructions for caring for his injury. 

He stood and put his shirt back on, along with tie and Jacket, followed by his over-robes. He had to be at work by 10am for a meeting with the Undersecretary regarding amended regulations for Muggleborns brought in as rogues and runaways. 

He walked out of his room, not seeing a particular medi-witch at her workstation, silently weeping into her handkerchief. “Until next time, Mr. Weasley,” she whispered as his stiff upper lip and rigid back departed the ward. She hastily wrote in his chart, in Cantonese, “Sixth visit for same injury. Falsely claimed shaving accident. Memory charm applied. Feb. ’98. AR” 


End file.
